


Not Too Different

by FluffyCookies



Category: Dissidia: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy VI, Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: 012, Angst, F/F, One Shot, Rare Pair, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24614401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffyCookies/pseuds/FluffyCookies
Summary: 012. On the day she and Lightning try to escape the conflict of Dissidia and the pain of their unfair pasts, Terra feels understood by Lightning in a way she never has by anyone else.
Relationships: Tina Branford | Terra Branford/Lightning (Final Fantasy XIII)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	Not Too Different

**Author's Note:**

> Scatterbrain rant: Whilst writing TCTNP, I got the sudden urge to write a fic about these two. Dissidia 012 did them dirty by not giving them any substantial interactions, and even in NT they basically got nothing. So I had no pre-established chemistry to work with and had to really think out how they'd have conversations, unlike with Kain/Light and Yuna/Laguna. The only thing we've basically got to work with is their battle quotes to each other. Hope I wrote it decently enough!
> 
> Edits: Edited certain portions of the story to make the romance more clearly consensual. It wasn't super bad beforehand, but certain things irked me now that I've done more research on romance tropes and the issues with them.

_Not Too Different_

That day, the world bleeds of dull velvets and grunge blacks; of weary wind and decaying grass. Under a cloud-infested sky that weeps tears of rain, skinny and long, lone trees are outlined by frames of haze.

Though adrenaline has her confined in sweltering agony and cold trepidity, Terra doesn't stop running. Her — really, _their_ — footsteps deploy regiments of splashes in the frigid air as they run along fog-hidden puddles. Leading the unseeable way, Lightning's had Terra's hand in her unbreakable grip for so long that Terra doesn't remember what her palm feels like on its own, free from the wet warmth.

Amidst the monotony of decay, there are many things that accumulate in Terra's scarred mind, few that she can afford to think deeply about. The mist. The warmness that pools in her eyes, defying the squalid cold of the rainfall. How much further she and Lightning can afford to go before one of them breaks to the cutthroat elements.

Long strides shorten in grace and length as they both take refuge beneath the protruding, bulky trunk of a dead tree. Heaves spilling from her blistered lips, Terra collapses on her soaked knees, blinking rapidly. Before her eyesight can sharpen itself, her sense of touch reorients first as Lightning inspects her for any sort of damage, running efficient fingers along Terra's arms and shoulders.

"I'm fine," Terra insists, rubbing a throbbing temple as her head aches on and on.

"Yeah, right," Lightning replies, her palm resting on a yellowing bruise that's slithered across one side of Terra's neck. In careful but not _gentle_ -careful strokes, Lightning's curled fingers glide across the coils of abrasion damage and murky skin.

Gazing into Lightning's diverted eyes, Terra uses one hand to fiddle with a lustrous lock of hair that ebbs along her face. Words her soul's longed for her to free finally take flight.

"We won't have to fight here, right?" Out of habit, her gaze flees downward to the swampy mud that looks black because of the absence of sunlight. Down, to her grime-damaged, once clearly red boots. "We're safe, _right?"_

"I sure hope so," is all Lightning responds with. Her fingers now rest along Terra's chin, and something hot and cozy pumps faster thumps of Terra's heart at the sensation. The fingers tilt Terra's head up with absolute power, return her gaze back to Lightning's without struggle.

With someone Terra wasn't close to, she'd jerk away from the intimate gesture without hesitation. But she's come to cherish the soft gazes Lightning spares her, her mystifying touch. It's not the first time Lightning's touched her face like this. The first time she did, she'd made sure to ask if Terra was fine with it before doing so.

Lightning looks amid the mist with her steely eyes, irises sharp and translucent even in the sea of haze. "This _definitely_ isn't the smartest place to stay." Then, her imperial stare lets down a little when she re-faces Terra, hand finally retreating from her chin. "But we can rest here. Least until the rain's less of a bitch to deal with."

She scoots beside Terra, one knee up and a scab-ridden elbow perched atop it. Head leaning back onto the tree bark, she breathes a languid sigh. "No matter what I do, it always feels like I have to fight at some point."

An eyebrow skips up Terra's forehead. She never expects Light to talk about this stuff. Then she nods, joins in on the sentiment.

"That feeling never goes away. I can't remember much of my childhood or teen years, and it's not because of Dissidia." Terra swallows a stiff breath, prepares to say the rest of what's been locked in her cage of personal secrets for her life. "I don't remember everything, but I remember the _crown…_ and Kefka… he controlled me there, too. But there, it was for most of my life. Maybe — no, I'm _sure_ — _that's_ why I'm too different from everyone. That's why I'm too dangerous."

Terra's only now realized that she's shivering, and she can't tell if it's because of the coldness of everything around her, the vision of silent tears that fall from her violet, there-yet-not-there stare in an alternate universe, or the recollection of a life so miserably lost, deprived of most meaning and purpose.

Flashes of red wail in the corridors of Terra's mind right there, bloody with memory, crimson with a pain that she's come to know so well. She hates that it's effortless to remember the things she doesn't want to. His name. The threats and praises that crept through her perspired ears, followed by an allegro of heart-breaking laughter. All the days spent inhaling the stench of rotting flesh and charred sinew and braille-dark cartilage as he'd often set those bone-hard hands of his on her shaking shoulders, whispering and cackling…

Instinctively, her quivering, sweat-chilled hands capture herself in a fragile embrace.

But then, warmth. Warmth she doesn't feel she deserves, but gets anyway from Lightning's hand again, this time patting her shoulder. Then she's pulled closer so her head rests against Lightning's bicep. It's softer than Terra thought it'd be, and it feels just right.

Lightning's voice resists the deafening waves of stormy gales. It's meeker, not as keen as Terra thinks it should be. "You're not too different from me."

Terra shakes her head, water dripping down curly tresses. "You seem to have everything figured out. You're always in control, you know the meaning of your ex — "

"You're _so_ wrong." Right there, Lightning captures her with eyes of ice, grabs both of Terra's shoulders as she moves in front of her. As always, she's the taller of them, even when she's not standing. "I thought I had life all figured out on my last birthday." She pauses, the frost of her gaze melting as her eyes go downward. "I don't know anything. I'm not good at anything. _Besides_ — " — she shakes her head, drenched curls of pink hair sticking to her rain-paled cheeks and neck — "being as tough as a force of nature, I guess. Stupid, I know."

Terra nods lightly, lets the words soak in her brain. It's always easy for her to idolize others, to seek out the good in them despite their flaws.

She gazes at the rusted zipper of Lightning's turtleneck. She's already seen the bleached-out tattoo hiding behind the filth-stained fabric, but only rarely because Lightning's so secretive about all the _too-personal_ things she keeps behind her walls. And Terra understands that pressing urge to keep safe everything about herself from people she knows nothing about. Because she knows there's no way to ever fully predict what a stranger will think of you once they know about the deep, ugly experiences that've made you who you are.

She knows people are always judgmental, intentionally or not. Say something wrong and they likely will never see you in a positive light again. Wear your heart on your sleeve and they'll take advantage of that unburdened honesty for their own gain.

The day Lightning helped her regain control of her mind, the contempt and judgment from her was as blinding as her name. It'd been weeks of Terra taking the brunt of her merciless mouth before she'd become more considerate, yet the whole time Lightning's actions told a different story.

Terra remembers the one time where she was hungry yet neglected to feed herself in those dim, memory-hazed days. Lightning's words are still as lucid as the brightness of a moon in an oily sky. _'I didn't help you get away from that psychopath just so you could die. Now here,' —_ she recalls the sound of a tray being set down — _'_ _eat.'_

Still focused on the turtleneck zipper, Terra frowns. "Can I see it? Please?"

Somewhat recoiling, Lightning looks at her chest. Even though she doesn't groan or sigh, Terra can practically hear the noises in Lightning's deflating expression. After a sullen silence, she finally nods, clearly holding back an instinctive grimace.

Pearly droplets collapse around Terra's fingers as she takes hold of the zipper. And, without blinking, she quickly reveals what lies beyond.

The brand looks the same as it always does. A maze of crisscrossed arrow-tipped webs of whiteness that seem to encage Lightning's breast. It's purely exotic imagery, even reminds Terra of herself in her Esper form. Where the arrows point as they please, she sees pink fur dancing upon lazy tides of wind. Where white, tainted skin lies, she notices the unique pinkness of her inhumane skin.

Terra wonders what it feels like. Lightning's never let her touch it.

The question bolts straight out of her mouth. "Does it hurt?"

"No."

"Then… do you mind if I touch it?"

Lightning's mouth opens but she says nothing. Then something in the stiffness of her movements eases, her countenance softening as she leans in closer. Still, she says nothing, oceanic irises radiant with loss. Mouth still agape, shifting as it tries to rally up something of a response, her hands still reside on Terra's shoulders, but Terra senses the looseness of the once-tight grip.

Parts of Terra are still claimed by thousands of questions, if not her entire self. She doesn't know who or what she's meant to be, why the world deemed her deserving of birth. _But,_ she thinks, looking back at the brand, _this isn't the time to hesitate over my existence._

She feels somewhat guilty. It doesn't feel right, potentially violating Lightning's consent, but at the same time, Terra swears she can see sparks of cues in Lightning's flitting eyes that scream _'it's okay to touch it'._

Even now, she's not sure _why_ she's suddenly so sure of what to do, but something, the feeling of drinking everything in about Lightning, the tattoo, her… it leads her to raise a hand, to reach toward the brand. The thumps of her wild heartbeat are all she hears, and the closer her hand goes, the hastier she feels.

She remembers a lingering piece of advice Lightning gave her once. Training day. Trying out her blade on dummies that seemed to be caricatures of silhouettes. _'_ _Never let yourself hesitate.'_

Before Terra knows it, she's made contact. The brand feels just as she expected. Crystalline, callous, cold. Like unbreakable frost.

She's surprised Lightning doesn't throw out some harsh reprimand or slap her hand away or doesn't even look… _angry._ It's like she's looking at a mirror of herself, actually. And as Terra feels herself boil, skin flushing and defying the rain's frigidity, she feels Lightning's grip on her tighten again.

And then it all happens, almost too quickly for Terra to coherently process.

Lightning leans forward, her lips coming close but not meeting Terra's mouth. She awaits a physical confirmation of consent, warm breath tickling Terra's cheeks. Her arms wrap around Terra's crescent-bending waist, another sensation from Lightning Terra's so used to that it feels natural and comforting.

Awkwardly, Lightning's eyesight flits to the ground as she gathers flustered letters and words into a meek sentence. "Sorry. I hope I'm not forcing myself on you or anything, we've never kissed each other but we've been all touchy-feely and I just..."

Smiling, Terra shakes her head and giggles. "You're okay. I'm definitely down for a kiss."

Immediately, Terra returns the gesture, her hands cupping Lightning's dripping chin with seraphic grace as their lips connect.

Between shooting her tongue into Terra's mouth and leaning back out, Lightning finally speaks. "The day I helped you — " she darts a formidable kiss around Terra's neck — "I did it because I couldn't take it anymore."

"What do you mean?" The question bolts from a tired breath.

"You had it worse than me. You were always out of control, never had a say in the matter, and that bastard _used_ you, treated you like garbage." Lightning features stiffen with a pent-up feeling Terra can't describe at the moment. "I've always been a slave to bullshit gods, but I've always got room to defy their crap. Even if it doesn't do much."

Continuing, Lightning tightens her embrace, chin resting on Terra's shoulder. "But you. You never got that chance for most of your life, right? Because of the crown. _Him."_

At this, Terra's hands descend limply to her sides as her eyes water with wet warmth. It's a desolate truth she wants to be unreal, false. But no matter how much she wishes it to be untrue, her heart lurches with desire for honesty, for meaning. For reality, as much as it breaks her.

"No," Terra utters quietly, a stray tear streaking down dips of drenched skin. "I never did."

Planting another quicksilver kiss on Terra's lips, Lightning's voice sounds somewhat broken, somewhat regretful. "I'm sorry. It should've been me."

"No," Terra responds, stroking Lightning's cheek in circular motions, watching the uncharacteristic sadness take hold over her expression. "You deserve none of it."

Tilting her head into Terra's palm, she blinks. It's as if she's internally responding back with a _no, I do._ Both their frayed capes wave aimlessly in the torrid gales. Lightning's sole pauldron's been casting a mustard-dim glow on the both of them.

Snipping the thread of silence, Terra moves on to something else. "Light, do you think we'll ever truly be… free? From Dissidia? From those that just want to use us?"

A ghost of an honest smile haunts Lightning's lips, so rare Terra thinks she's never seen it before. "I think if we keep looking," — she unwraps one arm from Terra's waist, runs a careful palm through Terra's hair, lands it on her chest, just above the floral designs of her blouse — "we'll find a way."

Terra slowly clasps Lightning's lingering palm with both hands, grinning faintly. "And we'll do it together?"

"Why the hell would I say no to that?" Lightning's smile doesn't diminish.

Chuckling, Terra shakes her head, feels Lightning go back to leaving kisses on her chest and neck.

 _Yes._ Terra's agreeing to a distant thought, to something Lightning said not too long ago, feeling Lightning nip one of her lips as she rejoins the kiss. _You're definitely not too different from me._


End file.
